


Uninvited Guest

by furnisium



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Games)
Genre: (kind of), Aftercare, Angst, Emetophilia, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, dubcon, just buddies bein friends, there's prostitutes hnging out in bikers apaerment lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:52:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9847319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furnisium/pseuds/furnisium
Summary: Jacket has had a long day, and needs somewhere to unwind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i havent written a fic in three years lol kms

Biker’s apartment had become a place of calming to the young hit man.

 

After particularly difficult jobs, he often found himself back in the dingy, poorly lit home, tossing his mask to the floor with a sigh as he let himself in. Outside of his conscience, he could hear frenzied shouting and scrambling. Faint shapes that resembled half-naked women flew past him as he let his silenced rifle drop by his feet. A flick of his fingers cleared some of the blood from his hand, and he started towards the couch sleepily.

Faintly, as if in another plane of thought, a familiar voice bounced off of his dripping face and clothes. “ _What the fuck are you doing? You can’t just waltz into my fucking apartment and-_ “ Jacket cut off the annoying sound by firmly planting a hand around the man’s neck and squeezing.

_Ahh, feels good to be back._

Jacket closed his eyes as Biker thrashed, trying to scream as the blond lifted his body into the air. A smile crossed his face. He could always come to Biker’s apartment whenever he needed comfort, and Biker would always welcome him with open arms.

* * *

 

… And that was why the teal haired man had gone limp in his grip. Snapping back to reality, the hitman blinked and sat down his unwilling companion. Biker dropped to the floor with a thud, whimpering between choked coughs. Jacket bent down, grabbing him by the chin. Biker rose to his knees, unable to look up at his unwelcome guest. The hit man hummed, slamming Biker against a wall and reaching down to tear open his fly. He fished his already half-hard cock out of his boxers and slapped the kneeling man’s face with it. Biker could only swallow, fear eating his body whole. Noticing the hesitation in Biker’s face, Jacket reached down and rubbed a thumb over the kneeling man’s cheek, giving him a split second of hope before delivering a jaw-shaking _slap_ across the face. Biker’s teeth clacked, and his vision cut out. He opened his mouth to gasp for air, only to have Jacket’s absolutely _dripping_ erection shoved into his throat. Biker choked, feeling tears prick at his eyes as the blond began fucking his face with a harsh snap of his hips. Jacket’s cock hit further and further down his throat with every movement, and Biker could feel himself convulsing as his gag reflex was tested, and tested, and tested, until he felt himself break.

Jacket felt the man’s throat tighten around him, and then it hit. Vomit spurted out around his cock like a faucet, and he moaned into his sleeve as it poured down Biker’s chin and onto the floor. Jacket practically came from the sensation, completely oblivious to the choked sobs and retching coming from the mouth wrapped around him. Pulling back until only the tip of his cock was in the other’s mouth, Jacket loosened his grip on Biker’s hair and stroked it gently.

“Clean up,” He rasped quietly. Biker coughed and gasped, as if he couldn’t get enough air no matter how hard he tried. Tears cascaded over his cheeks, and he looked up at Jacket with the most pitiful look plastered across his face that the blond had ever seen. His hand moved to the bile-splattered cheek as he nudged him towards the still-hard length before Biker’s face, looking at him with an impossibly gentle smile. Biker spit the last remains of his stomach’s contents from his mouth and grimaced, hesitating once more before leaning in and licking up the length of his companion’s cock. Jacket hummed softly, combing his fingers through the messy teal locks as Biker slowly took his length into his mouth. As angry as he should’ve been, he was incredibly careful not to brush the man’s erection with his teeth, or make him uncomfortable. Slowly, carefully, Biker pushed his head forward until Jacket was buried to the base in his throat. The tears hadn’t stopped flowing from his eyes, but he furrowed his brows and did his absolute _fucking_ best not to vomit again. He pulled his mouth off with a wet pop, and panted as he looked back up sheepishly.

“You still haven’t come,” he croaked, throat burning. An almost un-noticeable smile flickered across Jacket’s face, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Biker’s ear. The kneeling man looked away, feeling his face just almost begin to flush. _How the fuck was he getting flustered after this jackass waltzed into his apartment and r-_

Jacket’s cock was pressing against Biker’s lips before he could finish his thought, and he opened his lips obediently, closing his eyes as the hot, thick member pressed against his tongue. Biker sucked and lapped at Jacket like a well-trained bitch, whimpering as the blond came with a groan. Cum splattered against the back of Biker’s throat, and he swallowed without a complaint. Jacket pulled out slowly, sighing at the sight of the ex-hitman’s flushed, dirty face as a thin strand of semen connected his member and the other’s lip. The blond tucked himself back into his underwear, zipped his pants up, and turned to leave. Biker collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, trying to process the series of events that had just played out. By the time he looked up, Jacket had donned his mask, gathered his weapon, and was halfway out the door.

“Hey, piece of shit, don’t just-“ Biker stopped when he turned and held eye contact with him, remaining silent. The two stared at each other for a moment, unmoving, before Biker whimpered something.

“Please don’t go,” he sobbed. His voice was shaking and hushed, as if he was scared to speak. Jacket stood there, contemplating his options, before he turned back towards the now-sobbing man on the floor. He had fallen to his hands and knees, bawling into a puddle of his own vomit, and was probably the most pathetic sight that’d ever crossed Jacket’s path. He set down his gun, walking back to Biker and kneeling down next to him.

“I won’t.”


End file.
